Hobart, New York

This weekend for the twelfth year in a row I am teaching a writing intensive called

Good Stories. The workshop is at an unusual writers festival, The Hobart Festival

of Women Writers, started 12 years ago by writer-sisters Breena Clarke and

Cheryl Clarke, and Cheryl’s partner Barbara Bailliet. Cheryl and Barbara were

living in Jersey City and working at Rutgers. When they retired, they decided to

live in Hobart full time.

This retreat is very different from the many retreats I’ve

taught all these years – places like the San Miguel Writers festival, recently

described by a friend as a place where Older White Women Want to Write a

Book. Nothing especially wrong with that, for me especially, an Older

White Woman who’s written some books and want to write more. Still I can’t

help thinking that this festival is a model of inclusion and community, where

people of all races and orientations are not only welcome, but come right here

and form real friendships through their stories, and their writing. We descend on

a small upstate town called Hobart, population 441.

The town was transformed in 2005 by Donald Dales, a local pianist and furniture

restorer who bought entire book collections from two bookstores that closed. He

wanted to recreate a book town modeled on Hay-on-Wye, the first book village,

established in Wales in 1961.

Hobart already had one bookstore, Adams Antiquarian Books, opened by William

Adams, a retired physician, and his wife Diana, a retired lawyer. Barbara and

Cheryl opened Blenheim Hill books a while ago, and when they retired from

Rutgers, and moved from Jersey City to live in Hobart full time.

Delaware county is absolutely one of the most beautiful spots on this planet, and

Driving through these lush and bright green hills- from Hobart to Bovina, from

Bovina to Delhi, is astounding, as astounding as some of the most gorgeous

places on this planet.

I’m not one of those people who can do an adequate job of describing what

beauty looks like. My heart stops here, surrounded by so much lushness,

wildflowers and the promise of what earth can be. And then, this time of year,

we have asparagus, strawberries, mushrooms and ramps. What I can say is that

you should come and see for yourself if you can. And I promise

you’ll find a book or two or three in these charming and unexpected Hobart

bookstores.

A few times a year, the Hobart Festival produces an online journal. This issue

contains the work of one of the festival writers, beautiful Yiddish/English poet

Irena Klepfisz. You can read her poems and the other writers

on aging here:

https://www.hfwwnow.com

Love to all on this beautiful day. Cheryl and Breena Clarke, and me.